


do{life(3);} while(???)

by DigitalThespian



Series: Permutations [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Philosophy, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalThespian/pseuds/DigitalThespian
Summary: Kaleb has escaped his job at Joja, and meets a myriad of interesting individuals.I'm sure nothing will go wrong.
Relationships: Abigail/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Permutations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073213
Kudos: 4





	do{life(3);} while(???)

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been a _long_ time in the making; I wasn't sure whether to make this a series or a chaptered work, but since I primarily intend for these to be readable as standalone works, I opted for a series.
> 
> As always, if I forgot to tag something, let me know!

The farmer stepped off the bus, looking around in wonder; then promptly tripped and fell _straight_ on his face. He picked himself up into a crouch, holding a hand to his nose. He scowled when he realized it was bleeding. "Dammit, now they're gonna think I got in a barfight on my way here or something.."

"Oh my god, what happened?" A redheaded woman rushed over, concern etched on her features as she leaned down.

He stared up at her a moment, hoping that his blush was explainable as related to his injury. _Oh, fuck, she's **gorgeous** ; okay, don't make it weird, man, first impressions._

_**God** I hope she's single._

She evaluated the situation at a glance. "Ah. The ground's not particularly even around here, you need to be careful."

He laughed quietly, slowly standing up. "Well, at least you don't think I got in a fight.."

She raised an eyebrow. " _You?_ "

The farmer pouted. "At least _pretend_ I look like I could hold my own."

She laughed once. "It's not about that, you just don't look like the type to be getting in fights at all."

He paused. "Alright, I'll take that. I'm not, so." He began to hold out his hand to shake, but realized it was covered in blood. He held out his left instead. "Kaleb."

She shook it, chuckling. "Robin. Come on, I'll get you to your place, it's right down the road."

"' _Right down the road!_ '" He muttered under his breath, a smile ghosting across his features.

"Did you say something?"

He shook his head. "Yeah, but I was just quoting a dumb video to myself. I talk to myself a lot, and I apologize if it's annoying, but I'm not apologizing for being weird, you're just gonna have to learn to handle that."

"You know, I think you might really get along with my son and his friends; they're about your age, maybe a little younger."

 _Well sonofabitch. Oh well. I can appreciate a lovely woman from afar; I ain't no homewrecker._ "Sweet; I'd love to meet 'em then. But I need to just.. sit first, I think."

"Totally fair!"

* * *

The farmer walked into the general store, looking around curiously. Pierre—or presumably Pierre, given it was the name on the sign—called out to him. "Hey, you must be Kaleb!"

"News travels fast, huh?"

Pierre chuckled. "That's Pelican Town for you. What can I do for you?"

"Couple things; one, I need food, because I don't want to starve while I wait for my first harvest, and also I don't want to eat turnips and nothing else. Two, I was told that you're the guy to get more seeds from."

"Or JojaMart, of course." Morris' voice drifted from behind the farmer, and when he turned to look, he saw the smarmiest grin he had ever seen another human being wear.

Pierre harrumphed. "You have a lot of nerve."

The farmer looked behind him a moment longer, then back at Pierre, jerking a finger over his shoulder. "Why does your town have a discount LeFou shilling for JojaMart?"

Pierre barely held in a laugh as Morris spluttered indignantly. "I am the _manager_ I'll have you know, and—"

"I don't recall asking, LeFou." The farmer waved dismissively. "Get lost, I'm trying to manage a farm I inherited _yesterday_ and I have enough on my plate, I don't need to add 'trouncing corporate lackey' to that list, as fun as it would be."

Morris stared in shock, then huffed and left the general store. Pierre raised an eyebrow. "You alright, son? You seem on edge."

"I left the city to get _away_ from that company; I used to work for them. They're the _devil_. LeFou better stay the hell away from me if he knows what's good for him."

"Now, there _are_ other people who work there who are good people—"

"Do _they_ come into your store and try to steal customers?" Kaleb snapped, then sighed. "..I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. You're just trying to defend your neighbors. My beef is with supporters, not employees. _I_ was an employee, I get it, we all gotta put food on the table. Which is why I'm buying from you and not them, because any money I spend there vanishes from the community. Hell, point me to their houses so I can bring 'em a fuckin' cake that says 'sorry you have to work in that shithole'," he grumbled.

Pierre blinked, and a voice called over from the door to the rest of the house. "You're kind of an abrasive guy, aren't you?"

The farmer and Pierre looked over in surprise, and Pierre furrowed his brow. " _Abigail_! You apolo—"

To his surprise, the farmer laughed. "Oh, I _like_ you; yeah, sometimes. Joja just pisses me off. If I'm being too much of a dick just call me out. It's good to know this isn't Pleasantville or whatever."

"The old movie?"

"Yeah, I'll be honest, it's been forever since I've actually seen it, so I might be misremembering, but like.. It's not all about appearances here. I ain't about that. I'm gonna be who I am, and if that means I'm the grumpy late twenty-something that no one likes that lives out on the old farm, so be it. I just don't want to _not know_ I'm the grumpy old man no one likes."

"You know, I think you and Seb would get along."

"Good to know, you'll have to introduce me sometime."

"Will do! Obviously I'm Abigail, I'm assuming you're Kaleb?"

"Yep. Charmed."

"Don't be a stranger!"

"I'll do my best, but I've met stranger."

She laughed as she walked out, and the farmer called after her. "Cool hair!" He turned back to the counter. "Anyway."

* * *

There was a brief lull as the farmer walked into the saloon, but the chatter soon returned to normal. He walked up to the bar. "Alright, what do I need to know about the way things work here? You guys do rounds, or is it every man for themselves? Or—" He frowned. "I need to figure out a non-gendered version of that saying.."

Emily perked up behind the counter, bouncing over. "Oh, a man of consideration! I'm impressed!" Gus just chuckled, shaking his head with a smile.

"Glad someone is, most of the time I just come off as a jerk covered in a thin layer of dirt."

"Thin layer of dirt or no, you seem pretty nice to me!"

A man with the most classic case of five 'o clock shadow in the _universe_ called over from his place next to the bar. "You think _everyone_ seems pretty nice."

Kaleb raised an eyebrow. "So don't rain on her parade, goddamn, man." He noticed the Joja uniform collar poking out from under his stained hoodie. "I take it back; I recognize that uniform collar." He held up two fingers. "Two beers, one for me," he pointed at Shane, "the other for the poor bastard trapped by the shackles of corporate slavery."

"What kind?"

"Whatever he usually has, I'm assuming you know his preferences, and I'm a lager kinda guy, if that's doable."

"That'll be eight hundred goldferns, my friend."

"Can I just start a tab? I'm probably gonna be here for more than one drink on any given night." The bartender nodded with an easy smile, moving off to pour the requested drinks.

Emily gave the farmer a strange look. "Huh. You really _are_ a weird mix of super nice and a total jerk." She stiffened, holding up her hands in alarm. "That's just what I heard! I don't mean to say—"

"You ain't wrong, though. That's exactly what I am. I have two settings; on, and off. If I'm awake, you're gonna hear what's on my mind if you talk to me. 'S just how it is with me. So don't sweat it; like I tell everyone else, you're free to say whatever you want, long as you're okay with getting an honest response. I do my best not to go beyond honest, though. Like.. I don't like to berate people. That's just low."

"You wouldn't like Morris, then.." The man in the hoodie muttered.

"Who, discount LeFou? Smarmy asshole who's constantly trying to steal Pierre's business?"

The man snorted, finally cracking a smile. "That's him alright."

"Yeah, fuck that guy." The bartender came back with two pints, and Kaleb whistled. "Hot damn, this is _twice_ what that would have bought me in the city.." He nodded approvingly. "Gus, right?"

The bartender beamed. "Got it in one!"

The farmer nodded, looking to the girl behind the counter. "You're.. Haley?"

She looked surprised, then shook her head. "Uh.. no, I'm.. I'm Emily.."

"Shit, was that a sore spot? My bad." He ducked his head sheepishly.

"It's okay, it—it was an honest mistake."

"Honest mistake or no, if you smack someone in the face because you missed the high-five, you still owe them an apology. So, sorry about that; I'll let you get back to work, but it was nice meeting you guys! I like your hair, by the way. It goes with your whole jewel-tone color scheme." He gestured to her outfit, then walked over to the man in the hoodie, not noticing the faint blush on the girl's face. "So, what's your name?"

"..Shane."

"Kaleb, in case that wasn't obvious by now. But I also know remembering stuff is hard after a few pints, so may as well remind you."

The man glowered at him. "What makes you think I've had a few pints?"

"You didn't question me ordering you a beer, and you stand there like you do it every day. Also you work at Joja, so like.. yeah, no shit you wanna drink."

His ire quickly turned to bewilderment. "Why do you hate Joja so much? I mean." He raised his glass, and Kaleb clinked his against it. "I'll drink to that, but what'd they do to _you_?"

"I used to do UX and web development work for them." At the blank look he received, he shook his head. "Sorry; User Experience. Like making sure the website was decently navigable and stuff, and that it looked good."

"That.. sounds pretty simple."

"I mean, kinda? Then some bigwig _jackass_ decided that a good metric to measure performance on a weekly basis would be 'errors resolved', and suddenly all I did was figure out how to fix things in a way that would cause more errors somewhere else so I could actually keep my job. I tried to tell them it was stupid, but they just blew me off."

"So you sabotaged them?" His eyebrows went up.

"Nah, I just did a carefully careless job. I never straight-up introduced errors, I just started ignoring a lot of best practices to avoid code conflicts, so I could fix the conflicts later. It was, frankly, _infuriating_. I was _good_ at my job, but that meant we could go weeks at a time without problems for me to fix, if I did my job _right_ , which would mean I lost my bonus at best, and could get fired at worst. It was a huge waste of my time and abilities. So I bailed; came here, decided to get away from technology for a while. Still got a cell phone, but that's mostly because I use it to listen to music."

"Huh. Well, thanks for the beer."

"You got it. Best of luck, Shane. Try to hold it together at work, as satisfying as it would be to kick Morris in the dick."

He laughed. "Yeah. I will."

Kaleb returned to his pint, sitting quietly and listening to the chatter for a little while.

Emily sidled over after a few minutes. "Hey, you uh.."

He started, having gotten lost in thought. "Huh?! Wuh?" He blinked. "Oh, hey Emily. What's up? Do I need to settle my tab?"

He began to pat at his pockets, and she quickly shook her head. "No, I just wanted to get to know you, I guess? I appreciate you letting me work or whatever, but it's not exactly a high traffic town."

He nodded, resting his elbows on the counter again. "Alright. Shoot; what do you wanna know?"

"Just like that?" She seemed surprised.

"Do I really seem like that cagey of a guy?" He smiled wryly to himself. "It's the resting bitch face, isn't it."

"No! I mean, you do have resting bitch face, but I was just—" She sighed. "This is why people think I'm weird.." She muttered.

"So what?"

"Huh?" She looked like he'd told her the sky was green.

"So what if they think you're weird? So what if you _are_ weird? I'm definitely real fuckin' weird, but you don't see it stopping me." He took a long pull of his beer.

"Yeah, but you're so confident."

"I'll let you in on a secret; I'm actually a nervous wreck, like, ninety percent of the time. I just already know that it's not worth making friends by being someone you're not, because as soon as things go south, and that mask slips because you need help and you can't maintain it." He made a sharp whooshing sound between his teeth, snapping his fingers into a 'you're out' sort of gesture. "You'll find those friends aren't so friendly, or so helpful. I'm constantly worried about whether people like me or not, yeah, but it's easier once you think of it as an automated screening process. If they aren't gonna like me as I really am, it's not worth getting close. Being civil and friendly is one thing, but any emotional investment is a waste of my time and theirs; even if I just wanna be liked, I'm still lying to them, and as much as it hurts when they bail, they do it because they realize—consciously or otherwise—that they've been deceived." He snorted. "Sorry, you didn't come here for a lecture." He took another drink.

She stared at him incredulously. "You.. Wow. Is this what you're always like, or is this a bar thing?"

"I'm always like this. If people don't want my advice, I stop, but my mom and I both have this instinctive urge to try and solve other people's problems, perceived or real. So yeah. My bad."

"No, I.. That was actually really nice to hear; I've never been told that 'just being myself' is good for any reason that wasn't like, 'oh, you have to be true to yourself, because you'll feel _better_ that way'!"

He snorted again. "Oh yeah, real actionable advice right there; you _will_ feel better, but people don't like how it sounds to say it like it is. You feel better because you're not wasting your time making pointless 'friends'. Stick to real friends; way more satisfying." He took another drink. "Your turn; what do you do when you aren't working? What's your like, _thing_? Everyone's got one, even if it's 'only' that they really like romcoms, or whatever."

She beamed. "I like fashion; and not like, keeping up with trends, I actually make clothing!"

He sat up a little straighter. "No shit? I have a friend who makes clothing, though it's not day-to-day stuff." He paused, muttering to himself. "Actually, she may have branched out, I need to catch up with her sometime.."

"Yeah! I just like being able to bring my ideas to life, you know? And I can express myself so much more than 'the red shirt, or the blue shirt'?"

"You know, I thought your wardrobe seemed different, but I couldn't put my finger on why, and that definitely explains it. I just thought it was like, ordered from somewhere far enough away that I wasn't used to the style, but nah, it's just an Emily original, huh?"

"Yep! I don't make _all_ my clothing, but it's pretty close! Obviously I couldn't do like, underwire—" She cut off, embarrassed, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense, even if you've got the fabric for it the overall like, materials design process is probably different.." He nodded thoughtfully. "I'd assume you don't have a lot of stuff to work with wire or metal banding—Though I guess if you do corsetry you might."

She blinked, then slowly relaxed. "Yeah, no, I'm not into corsets. I'm happy with how I'm proportioned, thank you."

He nodded amicably, wearing an easy smile. "Go you." He held out a fist, and she stared at it a moment before catching on and bumping it. "It's hard to escape the clutches of female-targeted marketing. Especially the new-wave 'it's empowering' kind; like, I'm not gonna say what women should or shouldn't do, that ain't my place to say, but as someone who took PR classes in college, that reeks of 'divide and conquer' to me. Get women to argue with each other so they don't notice the real issue." His expression had drifted to an irritated scowl. "Buncha money-grubbing scumbags."

She giggled. "I didn't expect you to be vehemently feminist, but I like it."

H shrugged. "Thanks? It's just.. _bullshit_." He set his glass down abruptly, gesturing as he talked. "Also, _pockets_ ; what the _fuck_?! Like, sure, you're trying to sell purses or whatever, but like, in case you hadn't noticed, there are more and more places you can't take a bag into nowadays! Get with the times!" He huffed. "Sorry. That one bugs me. I try to keep my everyday carry limited to what I can fit in my pockets, I don't like carrying a bag. So it seems unfair that only I get that choice."

"Well, I am happy to report that my dress does have pockets."

"Nice. Now you just gotta start your own line, and you'll be set to change the world. 'Emily's Boutique; It Has Pockets!'" She laughed, and he gave a small smile. "Hey, if you need a website, you know how to find me."

"So I just wait for you to come to the saloon? That seems ineffective." She smiled impishly, and he snorted. "How about you give me your number; while this may be a small town, we're not living in the stone age, we _have_ cell signal, even if it's not particularly reliable."

He pulled out his phone, opening his contacts and sliding it across the counter. "Go nuts. First and last, if you don't mind, I have a habit of never deleting contacts. Plus it's way easier to remember who people are if I have both."

"Sure!" She handed it back, and he typed something in. Her phone dinged in her pocket, and she smiled. "Awesome!" She looked over his shoulder, waving. "Oh! Leah, Elliot!"

He turned, noting two _very_ beautiful people who had walked in, and presumably were Leah and Elliot, because they were headed to the bar. "Hello, Emily! And you would be Kaleb, then?" The man held out a hand, and the farmer took it after a long moment. "..Is everything alright?"

"..Yeah, sorry, you're just both really put together, and I was processing."

Leah laughed. "I think that's the classiest way of saying 'I was checking you out' that I've ever heard."

"Leah, don't put words in his mouth, we don't know that," Elliot admonished, though not unkindly.

"No, she's right; you're both really good looking, but that tends to make people uncomfortable if I just _say_ that. On that note.." He looked at Elliot. "I'm low-key envious of your hair. I mean, I'm happy with my braid, I don't wanna trade or anything, but _dude_. Also, your outfit is killer, and I _have_ to know where you got it."

Elliot blinked in surprise. "Oh, um."

"I made it for him!" Emily chimed in.

The farmer turned around, giving her an astonished look. "You make men's clothing too?! Okay, we're definitely gonna have to talk. I'm gonna need new clothing soon anyway, and I'm not passing up a chance like that." He turned back, only to see Leah and Elliot smiling warmly at him. "Wha—Why are you looking at me like that?"

Elliot gestured to Emily. "Not enough people appreciate Emily and her talents. It's nice to see that you do."

"Uh, _yeah_? I didn't even know her outfit wasn't professionally made at first—amendment, mass-produced, she's _definitely_ a professional—because the stitching is just so _even_ , like, handmade stuff usually has little bumps along the seams where the fabric didn't line up _just_ right."

"Oh wow, he actually knows what he's talking about." Leah looked impressed. "You guys are gonna be great friends, aren't you?"

Emily grinned. "I think so!"

"But I've said nice things about Emily and Elliot." He turned to Leah. "But not you. One, I dig the braid. Two, are you like, the ambassador to an elf kingdom I don't know about? Or are you well dressed in woodland tones all the time?"

She laughed. "No, this is just me. I like your braid too, by the way."

"Thanks. So what do you guys do?"

"I am an author," Elliot began.

"And I'm an artist," Leah finished.

"Oh, no kidding? We'll have to talk shop, Elliot, I've been plodding my way through a sci-fi novel for a long time, and it'll be cool to get some new perspective. Most people just kinda nod and say 'oh, it sounds good!' and I remember that they just don't really know how to look at it from a narrative perspective. Like, okay, I appreciate you think it sounds _cool_ , and all, but does it seem _satisfying_?"

Emily chimed in again. "..You really are full of surprises, aren't you, Kaleb?"

"I get that a lot."

Elliot beamed. "I would love to, provided you're willing to reciprocate with regards to my novel; I admit it might not be quite your speed, as it's a romance novel, but—"

"You've got yourself a _deal_ , my man. What's the premise?"

He blinked, surprised at the farmer's sudden intensity. "Oh, it's about a young attendant to a prince, who secretly moonlights as a vigilante."

"The attendant is the vigilante, or the prince?"

"The prince."

"Okay, cool. Continue."

Leah and Emily exchanged an amused glance.

"The vigilante saves the attendant one day, and they become fast friends, so the prince must struggle with his burgeoning feelings whilst avoiding revealing how much he knows about his attendant, and why."

"Ooh, man, that is a _solid_ foundation. I'm definitely looking forward to digging into that more; but I don't think now is the time, I can see Leah shooting glances at Emily out of the corner of her eye."

Leah started slightly. "Whoa, you're really observant."

"Unless I'm not. There's no in-between."

"That's a running theme here, I'm finding."

He grinned back at Emily. "You're catching on!"

"You know.. you've got a distinct profile. Would you mind helping me with a silhouette piece?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I'm down. I can't draw to save my life, so I can't talk shop, nor can I sit still for _too_ long, but as long as music doesn't bother you and I can bob my head a bit I'm sure I can manage for long enough to get a drawing session in." He held out his phone to the pair. "Here. First and last, if you don't mind; I just prefer to have both."

They typed in their information, and he took his phone back, sending them both a quick text. They grinned. "Alright, well, we'll catch you later!"

The farmer waved. "Yeah, see ya!" He turned back to the bar, draining the rest of his beer. "Well, it's been a blast, but I gotta get home if I'm gonna get up early and do farm things. Feel free to text me whenever, and if I don't answer it's not cause I'm like, frustrated at you or anything, I just sometimes don't feel up to being social. I'd much rather you text me way more often than I feel up to answering than have you not text me cause you're worried about pissing me off or whatever."

She beamed, giggling. "Thanks, I appreciate it! I'll do that. It was great meeting you!"

"Likewise!"

* * *

Kaleb sat up the next morning with a groan. "Ugh. Man, I really don't wanna deal with planting today, but c'est la vie, I guess." He trudged to the cabinet where he kept his non-perishable food, and began to prepare for the day.

After a slow start, he finally stepped outside, bleary-eyed, only to be met with a familiar face. "Oh, hey Lewis. What's up?"

"Morning! I apologize if I startled you. Did I explain the shipping bin?"

"..The what?"

"That bin over there." Lewis pointed, and they both looked over. "You can put anything you want to sell in there, and I'll pick it up before the next morning."

"Oh, rad. Thanks, Lewis. I'll be sure to leave you stuff here and there, I'll label it if it's for you."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I know. Do I sound put-upon to you?" Kaleb grinned. "Come on, if you're gonna haul ass all the way out here in the middle of the night it's the least I could do. I'll also see if I can install a little solar powered LED or something so you can see from the end of the road if there's anything actually in there; if the light's off it'll save you the walk down the whole road to an empty bin."

Lewis seemed surprised. "That's very thoughtful of you, thank you."

"Hey, I'm a resident of Pelican Town now too, I gotta do what I can to be a good neighbor."

* * *

The farmer paused, noting a blond kid on a skateboard trying to do a heelflip. A redhead watched from nearby, and the two chatted idly. He made a note to talk to them when they weren't in the middle of something. He turned and continued on towards the museum.

"Oh, hey! You must be Kaleb!"

" _Wah_!" He jumped, then relaxed, holding a hand to his chest. "Jesus, you scared me."

"Sorry!" The girl giggled quietly. "I was right here in plain sight the whole time, though, so I think that's on you."

The farmer laughed. "Yeah, that's fair. So, you're.. Maru?"

"Yeah! Lucky guess?"

"You look like your parents, for one, but it's really that I've met most of the town by now, so you were either Penny, Haley, or Maru; and I had a feeling that was Penny." He pointed back towards the girl watching the blond beef it every few minutes. "Since I heard she and Sam are friends; Alex, Sam, and Sebastian are the only guys my age I haven't met, and I heard Sebastian isn't an outdoorsy kind of guy, and that Alex is like, a jock incarnate, so that had to be Sam; also Haley is Emily's sister, so that was _also_ unlikely, given that you and Emily really don't look at all alike."

"Yeah, that sounds accurate." Maru laughed. "Yeah, that's Sam and Penny. Penny's my best friend, and Sam is her will-they-won't-they boyfriend."

"I had a feeling, she doesn't seem like the skateboarding type, but he seems so damn proud of himself; that and he gets this look every time she laughs at him falling off."

"You're a pretty perceptive guy." She nodded approvingly.

"Thanks, it's the trauma." He held up a hand at her alarmed face. "It's a joke from the internet. It's true, but I make jokes because it's easier to explain to people that I'm making a joke than to cold open with all the awful stuff that's happened to me."

"Why do you talk about it at all then?"

"It happened, and it definitely affected who I am and the way I see the world, sometimes in ways that aren't going to be discernible otherwise, which can lead to people getting upset when I react in unexpected ways. I'm not a fan of making people guess. The goal is to be exactly what it says on the tin, you know? Plus it avoids conflict so _I_ don't have to deal with it."

"I guess I can respect that. So, what's your deal?"

He barked out a laugh. "Beat me to it; I'm a farmer, now, but I also listen to music a lot, I'm good with computers, I like to write even if it's not a professional thing, and I like helping people."

"That's quite the variety."

"Yeah, I just do what seems fun, and I've tried a _lot_ of things over the years. What about you?"

"I like making things, and learning things. I also work at the clinic." She shrugged. "It's the short version."

"Oh, I _like_ you, we are definitely gonna get along."

She seemed surprised. "Oh?"

"I didn't mention learning things since it's not necessarily a definable hobby, but it's the _reason_ I've tried so many things. If something is interesting, I dig into it until I either hit a wall and decide to move on, or get really into it. Sometimes it's writing, or an instrument, or whatever, but I just like knowing how things work. I think it has to do partially with uncertainty avoidance, but eh. Details. I tried to pick up leatherworking, but I couldn't find the motivation to stick with it. Most craft skills are like that, since I never know if I'm gonna like it, but it's hard to find out without investing in the tools of the trade, you know?"

"I get it; dad's a scientist, so it was easy for me to discover a love of designing stuff and doing experiments."

"You know, you really remind me of an old friend. Her mom is a scientist, and her dad is a woodworker. Small world, I guess."

"No kidding! Well, I'm glad the comparison is favorable!"

"Yeah. Well, I'll catch you around, maybe? Not at the clinic, though, hospitals and stuff just.. make me nervous, it's not personal."

"Yeah! I have a feeling we'll run into each other, since mom runs the carpenter's shop."

"Alright, then I'll see you when I see you!" He waved, walking toward the museum.

* * *

Kaleb walked outside one morning, and nearly crashed into Marnie. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

She smiled. "It's alright." She had a cat in her arms, and Kaleb grinned at it.

"Oh, is this your cat? A very _pretty kitty_ ~," he cooed, scratching behind its ears, then quickly pulled away. "Sorry, I should asked before I went touching your cat."

"Oh, he's actually not mine, he's a stray."

Kaleb's eyebrows went up. "How much?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You're the livestock-slash-animal person around here right? How much for the cat? He's beautiful and if he's not yours I'm not letting anyone else get to him first."

"Oh! Goodness, I'm not going to charge you, I came over to see if you wanted to take him in!"

"Abso _lute_ ly, I would _love_ to take him in." She handed him the cat, and he cradled it affectionately. "You're the best, Marnie; I'm gonna go in and get him all settled."

"I'm just glad he's going to a good home."

Kaleb turned to go inside. "Still the best," he called over his shoulder.

* * *

"..Why are you covered in hair? You don't have any animals." Abigail raised a brow.

"False; Marnie showed up two mornings ago with a cat and he's my son now and I love him."

There was a stifled giggle from behind one of the shelves, and he smiled gently to himself. Abigail grinned. "Well, turns out the farmer's a big ol' softie, who knew."

"Only sometimes. When it counts." He set some money on the counter. "Thanks, Pierre. Tell Caroline I said hi."

Pierre beamed. "I will!"

The farmer left, looking between the shelves to see Penny, hiding her face behind a catalogue. He paused. "It might be easier to find what you're after if you hold it the right side up, you know."

She squeaked, looking down at it. She looked back up. "It is not!"

He smirked. "But the fact that you had to check means you weren't actually reading it."

She pouted. "Jerk." She softened. "It's sweet that you like your cat so much."

"He's the best." Kaleb's smirk grew into a wide, joyful smile. "I like cats, and he made himself right at home. It's nice."

"I'm glad. You seem like you could use something peaceful."

To his surprise, she didn't backpedal. "..Yeah, I could. That's.. huh. Thanks, Penny."

"You know my name?"

"I know everyone's name by now, even if I haven't gotten the chance to get to know them personally; but yes, Maru told me. I saw you watching Sam try to do a heelflip and decided to come back when you weren't busy." He chuckled. "And then I learned you're the local teacher, and suddenly it made sense why I don't see you around much. Teaching is hard work, and that's not even counting the prep time. You let me know if I can help out, alright? Vincent and Jas seem like nice kids."

She smiled softly. "They are. I'll let you know."

"Awesome. I'd love to stay and chat, but duty calls." He waved to the occupants of the store. "Later guys!"

* * *

He walked into the Stardrop the next Friday, noting that he actually recognized everyone this time, even if he hadn't talked to them much, or at all. Pam, notably, as he got a bad feeling about the woman, but he wasn't sure why. Sort of like Shane, but more.. existentially bitter, rather than situationally. There was a blonde at the bar talking to Emily—her sister Haley, presumably—along with a guy that was built like a linebacker; Kaleb had the strangest hunch that it was Alex.

Finally, there was a tall black-haired and black-clothed kid at the pool table, wiping the floor with Sam. The farmer walked over, waving to Abigail. She perked up. "Oh, hey Kaleb! Sam, Seb, this is Kaleb!"

Sebastian turned, regarding him coolly. "Sup." He went back to the game.

Sam grinned. "Oh man, it's good to finally meet you! I've been hearing all kinds of stuff from people around town, but I wanted to meet the man himself."

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Sam. It's good to meet you too." Kaleb eyed the pool table. "You uh.. well, it looks like you're getting your ass kicked."

Abigail laughed, and Sam pouted. "I'm not losing _that_ badly," he protested.

Sebastian sunk the eight-ball, turning to Sam. "I win. Wanna go again?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sighed. "Yeah, sure."

The farmer noticed that Sebastian just retrieved the balls again, and tilted his head. "It's free?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Gus gave us the key since we play so often. We just pay for four games at the start of the night, and play however long, even if it's more than four."

Kaleb nodded appreciatively. "I dig. Good guy Gus." He smirked. "If you can retrieve them on the fly, you guys ever play Cutthroat?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "..No, I haven't."

Abigail held up her hands. "I'm terrible, and I don't fancy learning just to lose, so I'm good."

Kaleb nodded. "Alright; it's usually three people or three teams anyway, so that works. If you get curious and wanna take a shot or two you can jump in on my turn."

She looked surprised for a split second. "Alright. Thanks."

He turned back to Sebastian and Sam. "So it goes like this; each of us gets five—doesn't matter _which_ five, but it's a pain if they're not contiguous."

Sam raised a hand. "It means they're numbered in a row." Sam lowered his hand at Sebastian's answer, and Kaleb laughed.

"Anyway, the goal is to be the last one with any balls on the table. If you scratch, the other two players get one back. Yes, this _can_ bring you back if you're out."

"Ugh, but I scratch all the tiime," Sam groaned.

Kaleb just grinned. "Guess you'll just have to git good."

Sebastian eyed him. "..Was that a Dark Souls reference, or just coincidental."

"Definitely a reference. I love that game."

He nodded in approval. "Alright, I might be able to stand you."

Kaleb threw his head back and laughed. " _God_ I love this town."

Sam and Sebastian blinked in confusion, and he clarified. "In the city the population density is so high that you can't afford to take off the 'customer service politeness' mask, otherwise there'd be _riots_ every two days, but here? People say shit like 'you're a really abrasive guy, huh?' or 'I might actually be able to stand you,' _to my face_ , and I _love_ it. I'll take 'mildly confrontational, but honest' over 'questionably genuine politeness' any day."

Sebastian stared a moment. "I think that's the first time someone's ever said they _prefer_ me being an asshole."

Kaleb shrugged. "Better that than being trapped in a Matryoshka doll of your own creation to try and please everyone, if you ask me. If I'm gonna be a jerk sometimes I'm sure as hell not gonna tell other people that _they're_ not allowed to be." He paused, then tilted his head. "Wait a minute, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I've been told on two separate occasions that I'd get along with you, once by Abigail and once by Robin."

"Robin is his mom," Abigail supplied.

"Yeah, she said 'my son and his friends', but I didn't know you were in that group, so I didn't put two and two together—or one and one, I guess—until now."

"What made mom say that?" He looked not.. _nervous_ , exactly, but still but defensive.

"I said something to the effect of 'sorry if me being weird is annoying, but I'm not gonna say sorry for _being_ weird, you can deal.'" He paused. "And now that I think about it, _that_ came up because I quoted a Dark Souls video to myself."

He stared a moment, before a hint of a smile appeared. "I respect that. I'm Sebastian."

Kaleb grinned. "Pleasure to meet you; I'm Kaleb, even though I know you know that by now."

* * *

He was on his way to the community center, but stopped short when he noticed Haley scrutinizing him. "Uh, can I help you?"

"..My sister said you were cute, and I guess I can see it."

"Wow, I bet you're a real hit at parties, aren't you?"

She bristled. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means you just made your first impression by _staring at me_ and saying 'eh, you're cute I guess,'; oh, also you _totally_ just sold your sister out, I'm like ninety-nine percent sure she would not be happy that you said that."

"Why do _you_ care?!"

"Cause she's nice, and seems like she gets enough shit as it is?"

"You better not be getting any weird ideas."

"I'm considering tying your shoelaces together when you're not looking at the Saloon so Emily can laugh at _you_ for once, does that count?"

Haley was taken aback. "Hey, that was.. that was uncalled for."

"Then don't accuse me of getting 'weird ideas' about people just because I don't want people to be mean to them. You started this with a backhanded compliment, I was minding my own damn business, but like hell am I gonna just stand here and take it."

"You are so weird, what the hell?"

"What else is new," he sighed. "Look, just.. forget it. You don't strike me as someone who's malicious, just someone who's hurt. You probably don't wanna hear that, but tough shit, that's not my point. Just don't be a jerk and we're cool."

"Wha—You don't get to just _decide_ that I'm not upset!"

"I don't _give_ a shit what you think about _me_ ; I'm saying _I'm_ not gonna hold it against _you_. You can be pissed all you want; god knows I can relate. Have a nice day, or don't. 'S your life." He walked away, leaving behind an incredibly confused Haley.

* * *

"Did you really chew out my sister?"

Kaleb looked up from his beer, sitting at what had quickly become his 'usual' seat; one away from the end so Shane could sit if he wanted, but not _at_ the end so he'd have his space. Plus it was just close enough to Gus that he could order without moving, without having to actually _talk_ to the guy; he was a great guy, but that was sort of the problem. He was _way_ too friendly for how little they had in common.

"Yep." He took another drink.

When it became clear he wasn't going to elaborate, Emily spoke up again. "What happened? I don't exactly have an accurate recounting, given I heard about it from her."

"Well, I'm assuming she left out the part where she threw you under the bus."

"..She did, yes. What did.. What did she say?"

"Before I say that, I'm just gonna preface this. I'm flattered; it's fine."

"What?" Emily furrowed her brow.

"She said 'my sister said you're cute, and I can see it, I guess', which was super shitty for a whole bunch of reasons, like, sure, I don't think it's weird, but you should be the one to decide whether you're gonna reveal that information, you know? Plus like, backhanded compliment much? Jesus." He shook his head. "So I called her out. Well, actually I sniped back cause I'm an asshole sometimes. I said she must be a real hit at parties, and we exchanged a few barbs, and then I basically told her to quit being a dick but that I wasn't gonna hold it against her cause she's obviously not _really_ like that."

Emily stared in horror. "I.. Don't know what to say, that was a lot."

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, otherwise start wherever you want. Or jump between, it's no problem as far as I'm concerned."

"I appreciate you acknowledging she isn't just a mean person. She wasn't always like that.."

"Really, Emily?" Haley's voice drifted over, and Emily winced. "Gonna just air my baggage to the guy who moved in three weeks ago?"

Kaleb looked over his shoulder, then slapped a hand on the stool next to him. "Alright, get over here. Let's hear it. I'm not gonna dance around this, if you're gonna chew me out let's be on with it."

"What the hell? Why would I talk to _you_ about this?"

"Because I started it, so I'm finishing it; Emily didn't just say that out of nowhere, she said it because I told her what I said to you the other day. I brought it up, so if that bugs you then you've got a right to tell me." He held up a hand to get Gus' attention, jerking a thumb towards Haley. "Her first drink is on me."

"I hope you don't think buying me a drink is going to make think any better of you."

"Not at all, frankly. I think it's easier to talk about shit when you're not sober, but nothing says you have to have that drink now, or even while I'm here. That's your business. I don't do shit unless I think it's the right thing to do; my preferences just break ties."

Haley narrowed her eyes, then flounced over, perching gracefully on the barstool. "Fine. If you're buying, I'll have a nice glass of wine."

Emily looked affronted. "You can't just order the most expensive drink on the menu!"

He shrugged. "Why not? I never said 'first drink below whatever price', I just said 'first'. I was prepared for her to do this if she wanted to. It's not like I get nothing out of it; the fact that she did says a lot about her attitude towards a lot of things. If I'm here to talk shit out, knowing the person is important. No compromise without understanding."

Haley stared at him. "So what, that was some kind of weird-ass _test_?"

"If we're gonna use that kinda metaphor, it's more like a poll. Maybe a survey? Whatever. Point is, I mean what I say and I say what I mean, so order what you want."

Gus came back with a glass, and Haley swirled it around before setting it down to air. "Alright, then; why the hell are you talking about me behind my back?"

"Because you weren't here, and I don't have your phone number to invite you. Also we're not really friends anyway, considering our last interaction, so I doubt you'd have shown up if you weren't already coming. Why would you?"

Emily looked back and forth between the two nervously. Haley snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're actually _like_ this. You're not just putting on a front, you're _actually_ that transparent."

"Yep. Welcome to life dealing with me; it's easier than it looks once you realize how it works."

"Are you always this self-centered?"

"Define self-centered. I like helping people, but a big part of it is that it makes me feel good about myself, like I'm _worth_ something. Does that count as selfish?"

"How am I supposed to know?!"

"Damn, I was hoping you did. Been trying to sort that one out for years."

"Don't patronize me."

"You forgot again. That's not how I work. This is literally our second interaction, and you know from the first I will _absolutely_ shoot back, so don't bother trying to suss out if I'm taking subtle potshots; I'm not. They won't be subtle."

"Then why would you care about what I thought about your 'is that selfish' question?"

"Because I recognize your behavior. I'm not gonna act like I know what you've been through, but from where I'm standing you look like someone who got told their value lay in one thing, and then abruptly had the rug pulled from under them; and now you're lying on the floor trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and all life had to say was 'tough shit, figure it out'."

Haley narrowed her eyes at him. "You've got a lot of nerve, _farmer_."

"So I've been told. You asked, though, so I told you."

She calmed down a bit, but not much. "..You're still an ass, but I can at least respect that you don't make people guess."

He didn't answer, instead opting to raise his glass in her direction. She cautiously clinked her glass against his, and he took a long pull. "So what's up next."

"Are you seriously just going to sit here while I roll out my laundry list of complaints?"

"I'm gonna respond when appropriate, so keep that in mind, but yeah. There are what, twenty-six people in town, about? I have no intention of letting conflicts fester, because I moved to this town to be _part_ of something. The people here clearly like you—or at least tolerate you, since it's not realistic for everyone to like everyone—which means whether you like it or not, we have to get along to some extent, and I'd rather we do any arguing or whatever _now_ instead of after three months of microaggressions stacking up."

"You're weirdly nice to Emily. People aren't nice unless they want something."

" _Haley_!"

"I'll drink to that." Emily stared at him in shock. "People are assholes, including me, but I don't think that excuses them from accountability. Sure, I want something, it's just that the thing I want is like, you know, _friends_." He shot her a sideways glance. "But I appreciate the protective sister lurking under the frosty exterior."

Haley scoffed. "What's _that_ mean?"

"I said I wasn't gonna hold it against you 'cause I could tell you weren't a bad person, just someone who had some shit going on in their past or present. But just now, your complaint was 'I don't trust your intentions with my sister, because you're uncharacteristically nice'; I once heard someone say 'there's no one as nice, sweet, and thoughtful as a guy who's trying to fuck you for the first time.' And goddamn if that saying ain't accurate, so I definitely can't fault you for being suspicious."

Emily looked horrified, but Haley barked out a laugh. "Alright, you know what, just for that I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt; no one who was actually part of that category would acknowledge its existence."

Emily started slightly, clearly shocked by the acquiescence. "Wow, that.. went a lot better than I expected it to."

He shrugged. "It's amazing what can happen when you're not afraid to look the other person in the eyes while they call you on your bullshit. It's just most people aren't prepared to _own up_ to their bullshit. That's why my method works; I'm not shy about being a dick. No holier-than-thou 'you need to be better' crap, I only care about accountability. They can fix their shit if they want, but as long as they're willing to admit it's their shit and it needs fixing, I'm willing to take that at face value."

"How on earth did you end up like this?" Haley leaned her head on her hand, elbow on the bar. "I don't understand you. How did you get from high schooler to this? Because you were _not_ like this in high school, high schoolers are assholes as a universal constant."

"I've met like, two people in my entire life who weren't; one went to my high school, the other I met in college. The second of those two was the person who still believed in me, despite how awful I was. _That_ was how. I used to _be_ one of those guys we mentioned earlier, plus all sorts of other bullshit. I was the worst. But she still believed in me; she believed that despite everything I did—to _her_ , even—I could be a good person still. And you know what? I decided that if someone like her could believe in me, what the hell was I doing? I had no excuse. So I started to make an effort to be a better person. As for why I'm so blatant, that's more of a Pelican Town thing. In the city there are too many people to do this, there's not enough time in the day to sit down at the bar and hash things out like this. But here? I could take all night and I'd still be able to make peace with everyone in a single season if I came every day."

Emily looked at Kaleb with a smile. "I'm glad you decided to change."

He stared down into his pint, wearing a faint smile of his own. "Yeah. Me too."

"Alright. Well, thanks for the wine, and have a good night, or whatever." Haley stood to leave.

"Yeah, cheers. May your socks always stay dry."

She blinked. "Okay, I see why you and my sister get along so well."

Emily pouted, but he just laughed. "But you can't deny we're _right_."

"..Yeah. I guess I can't. Have a good night, guys."

Haley left, and Emily stared after her. "..I've never heard her admit I was right like that, not about the things she says are 'weird'."

"Like I said; honesty, man. If she knows for a goddamn _fact_ that I'm not gonna try to trick her into looking bad, suddenly she has no reason not to be honest herself. She really cares about you, but I'm willing to bet she was 'the pretty one' most of her life, and suddenly she graduated and found out that's not a metric the world cares about."

"How—How did you know that? And if you did, why didn't you say that?"

"Couple reasons; I wasn't _sure_ , not enough to say it with no preamble like that, and also that would have instantly put her on the defensive. So I just stuck with what I was pretty sure about, and phrased it in a way that implied it was something that happened _to_ her."

"..For someone who's supposedly 'completely honest', you're kinda manipulative." She clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh god I'm so sorry."

He chuckled. "Nah, you're right. I used to be good at manipulating people. Like, way too good. I don't like it, but there it is. It started when I was real little. I have ADHD, which changes practically everything about the way my information processing works, so adults were constantly getting mad about all sorts of things and I didn't understand why." He paused. "Okay, so, this is probably gonna be a _really_ long explanation if you _actually_ want to know why I'm like this."

She gestured around the bar. "I work here, I've got time. So far you're not mean, and you seem to be genuine, so I'm alright with listening to your story."

"Alright. So, when talking to adults as a kid, I learned really early on to just say the words that meant to _them_ what I was _trying_ to say; as a hypothetical example, don't say 'I don't like sitting all day so I get up and walk around', say 'I think the chair is uncomfortable so I stand up sometimes to make it feel better'. To an elementary schooler, those are functionally the same thing; but to an adult the former is 'I'm refusing to follow the rules' and the latter is 'I am experiencing discomfort, and so like any normal human I'm attempting to alleviate it'. I didn't understand _why_ I was uncomfortable, and even if I _had_ I didn't have the level of articulation I would have needed to explain to them that ADHD was _actual_ discomfort, and not an excuse. Plus it wasn't taken seriously as a 'real' mental illness until recently anyway."

"That doesn't sound _too_ bad of you, though, you meant well, so what..?"

"It's hard to distinguish between 'this feels like it shouldn't be this way because it's actually bad' and 'this feels like it shouldn't be this way because it isn't the way I want it' as a seven-year-old, and by the time I was old enough to learn that a lot of what I was doing was wrong, it was so ingrained in the way I interacted with the world that it was too late. There was no fixing it, because to me, the world was out to get me, and if I wanted relief or to be accommodated.. I had to _take_ what I needed. If the world was hellbent on screwing me at every opportunity, I would _play_ its little game."

Emily's eyes had widened, and she looked moderately alarmed.

Kaleb laughed bitterly. "Yeah, that's about the reaction you should be having. I remember a lot of conversations in early college where I felt justified in actions that in hindsight weren't like, _actively_ bad, necessarily, but definitely were a dick move at _best_. Pretty much any time I could scrape more benefit than I was 'supposed' to be allocated out of a situation, I did. Because I'd spent my life under the paradigm of 'asking for more accommodations than you're provided results in your _existing_ accommodations being taken _away_ , so if you need more than what you're given, don't _ask_ for what you need; _take_ it.' Even if that meant tricking people, making them think I cared about them when I didn't, outright cheating or lying, actual _literal_ theft; very little was sacred. I had my own beliefs and morals, and there were definitely lines I wouldn't cross; I generally tried not to take from those who obviously really needed it, for example." He shook his head. "But those lines were pretty fucked up in places."

"Oh, that's.. but.. That still doesn't really address what I said earlier about—" She cut off, ashamed. "Sorry, I shouldn't—"

He held up a finger, smiling wryly. "I'll tell you if I think you're being too nosy or whatever. Don't worry. And as for me being kinda manipulative now, that's why I mentioned the 'telling people what they need to hear to receive the message you're _actually_ trying to send' thing; for the lack of a better way to put it, I 'use my powers for good', or whatever. And like, people do this _all the time_ , they just don't think about it, and no one ever talks about it. If someone is worried about dying in a plane crash, you don't say 'don't worry, only one in however many flights crash!' You say 'Hey, it's alright, air travel feels scary; but don't worry, the airport has teams working around the clock to make sure nothing goes wrong, and there's a reason Boeing only hires the best and brightest to design these aircraft. Everything's gonna be fine.'" He took a drink, then set the glass down, making a gesture like he was comparing two weights. "Those statements have inverse levels of truth and reassurance. 'Everything is gonna be fine' is _technically_ a lie; there's no guarantee. But it's the lie they need to hear to feel safe, and it's close _enough_ to the truth that societally we just accept it; a 'social lie', if you will. I do that, just with a lot more stuff."

"I.. Guess that makes sense, but it still feels wrong, somehow.."

He nodded. "I can get that. I appreciate you saying so. There's a lot going on in my head that sorts through whether a given situation qualifies, and I get how that feels like me deciding to be judge, jury, and executioner. Would you like me to cease my incredibly long winded explanation, or go over how I decided what I said to Haley was acceptable?"

"I.. _would_ like to know; I've come this far, and I care about her, too."

He laughed. "Fair. A big thing for me is that nothing I said was untrue; I told her what I thought, and I said it as such: 'I think'. I had more suspicions, yeah, but that wasn't going to make her feel like I actually respected and understood what she was going through, which was the _goal_ of the truth. We shouldn't lie because it takes away the ability to distinguish if a person can be trusted. So in this case, I really did mean what I said, and my _directly_ _stated_ goal was to explain why I thought she wasn't in the wrong. I'm of the opinion that giving the full truth— _knowing_ it would be received poorly, and that it would seem like I was judging her—would have been a greater evil than a lie of omission that made her feel like I was on her side, since I _actually am_. If I _wasn't_ on her side, then that would be wrong. But since I am, I didn't deceive her; at least, not in the sense that I got her to believe something that wasn't true."

He paused a moment, then nodded to himself. "This is a weird example, but have you played Dungeons and Dragons? I promise this will make sense, bear with me."

She blinked. "Um. No?"

"In one version, there's a skill called bluff, and a skill called sense motive. You'd think that's pretty cut-and-dried, but the trouble comes in the very situation I'm describing; based on the rules of the game, if I tell you the truth, you _automatically_ believe me. No matter how ridiculous or unlikely, if it's true, you believe me, because bluff is opposed by sense motive, and I'm not _using_ bluff, because I'm not telling a lie. There is no skill for convincing someone you're not lying when you _actually_ aren't lying, since there isn't a 'believing the truth' skill either. Some people used diplomacy instead of bluff, but that skill explicitly took way longer than bluff, and had completely different mechanics. The accepted fix in most games I played in was to use bluff anyway, and just roll against what they _expected_ the truth to be; in essence it was treating the truth as a lie against their expectations."

"Oh..kay?"

"Cool, still with me. The _official_ fix for this in a later edition was to change bluff to deception, and change—and this is the key point— _diplomacy_ to _persuasion_. And _that's_ the difference I'm trying to highlight; persuasion and deception are essentially the same skill, fundamentally, but persuasion _also_ got diplomacy's job, solely because deception is 'the one that's for lying'. The summary here is 'convincing someone to believe the truth' is considered morally and ethically different than 'convincing someone to believe a lie', but it uses the _exact same_ interpersonal skillset. It's just usually easier to convince someone of the truth, since evidence is a thing. In the absence of evidence, though, like in this situation, it's just my words and my word, so to speak. I usually talk about it in terms of being good at 'manipulating people'; but really what I'm good at is _convincing_ people. It all comes down to what I'm convincing them _of_."

He stopped, taking a drink and collecting his thoughts. "We view the truth as morally good—and for good reason—but most moral and ethical philosophy believes that using bad methods to do good is still bad in the end. I agree, largely; but I'm also willing to consider outcome. If good methods cause a worse result, and the bad methods themselves don't actually cause harm, then in _that specific_ situation, are they actually bad? And like, people have been arguing over this for literal millennia, so this is all my opinion. But there it is. The 'repercussions' of her finding out I had a better idea of what was going on will—at worst—be her indignantly asking 'why didn't you say anything?' and me saying 'I wasn't sure, so I didn't wanna go attributing things to you that might be flat-out wrong, and are also somewhat stereotypical'."

"..Okay. I'm still not sure I fully agree with you, but I think what you just said sounds like a reasonable thing to believe. Like, I don't think you're being malicious or arrogant."

Kaleb smiled. "Thanks. And really, that's all I can ask for, is to not be those things. I can live with being wrong, and I can live with being a jerk, but I do _not_ want to hurt people anymore if I can help it. Being a jerk _can_ be hurtful, but I do my best to make sure it's zero-sum at worst. I'm not gonna let someone else hurt _me_ just to avoid being a dick; I've got the right to watch out for myself."

"You're a really peculiar guy, Kaleb, but you know, I think I'm really starting to see what you mean about that not being a bad thing." Emily smiled gently. "It's been enlightening, but I need a break from the novel you just dictated to me."

He laughed. "You have a good night; I really appreciate you taking the time to hear me out. That was a hell of a topic."

* * *

"So, what's your deal, then?"

Kaleb looked over in surprise at Abigail, who had just walked over. " _My_ deal?"

"You ask everyone else what they do; what do you do? And don't say farming, smartass."

"Damn, you've got me figured out," Abigail laughed, and he smiled to himself. "I don't know if I really have one, at least not like, a _defining_ one. I like to think I can write pretty well, but that remains to be seen; I know I know my shit when it comes to computers and stuff, but I left that behind when I left Joja. It's not that I don't like them anymore, but doing it professionally is too close to too many bad memories. That was a rough part of my life." He cast out his fishing line again.

"You talk to Seb about computer stuff?"

"Yeah, I helped him troubleshoot a website he was building. He says I have a knack for breaking things, which in that line of work is a compliment; if I break it first during design he doesn't have to wait for a customer to do it and then get mad at him. Especially if the system that broke involves, I dunno, say, _credit card transactions_."

"So basically you're good at being bad at computers, _because_ you're really good with computers."

"I.. yeah, pretty much. I've never had anyone phrase it that way, but that's basically it in a nutshell."

"Cool. What else? You said you don't have a defining one, but you listed two, one of which was one you _don't_ do."

"Yeah, I dunno, I just like a lot of stuff? I play a lot of games; or I did, not as much anymore. I listen to music a lot, I'm bad at guitar, but I'm getting there. Slowly. _Very_ slowly. I like helping people and figuring out how stuff works and why, and I like figuring out better ways to do things. I like interesting things, doesn't really matter what it is, I just like things that are unique. Like all the cool stuff Emily makes, or like, almost everything about this town. So yeah. Jack of all trades, I guess?"

"Better than a master of one, though, right?"

"I appreciate that you know the whole saying."

"Thanks. It bothers me that people use a lot of those sayings to mean the exact opposite of what they actually do." She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "For a long time I would get 'curiosity killed the cat' from my parents, especially when I was interested in things they didn't think I should be."

"Me too, but usually from other adults when I'd ask too many questions. But nah, satisfaction brought it back, so cough up the answers already, or admit you don't know instead of blaming me."

"Ugh, _right_?" The two sat in silence for a while. "So like, if Schrodinger's cat is alive and dead, is that two overlapping realities or like, a gap in reality?"

He looked over at her with a startled expression. "Wha—what brought that on?!"

"I dunno, we were talking about cats being dead and then not, and you said you like interesting things, so.." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, quieting. "..forget I said anything."

"I mean, to answer your question, it's two diverging world states, according to one of the latest theories in quantum mechanics. You're right, that's absolutely my kind of question, I was just surprised because I was pretty sure I'd never mentioned my physics background."

"You have a physics background?"

"Yeah, I was a physics major for about two years, ish. It's been a while, I'd have to look at my transcript. But yeah. You've got the right guy, I just didn't expect it."

"Oh, huh. Alright, so what's the deal there?"

"Oh boy; do you know what a wave function is?"

"Not at all."

"Uh.. how about a probability distribution?"

"Is that like, how likely a thing is to happen?"

"Yeah, basically. Like if you roll three dice, how likely is it to get a given total. One and two are impossible, because you're rolling three dice, and a three exactly has a one in.." He looked up, thinking. "two-hundred-sixteen chance, and so on; with me so far?" She nodded. "Alright, so a wave function is the equation used to describe the line you'd get if you graphed that probability distribution, except the 'totals' are specific quantum states."

"Okay, that last part was a bit much, but I think I'm with you still."

"The deal with the alive-and-dead cat was actually Schrodinger making fun of the idea that we now think might actually be true. He was basically saying 'that's dumb, if the wave function doesn't resolve until you look, then in this really weird hypothetical situation the cat would be alive and dead at the same time,which _obviously_ can't be true.'"

"So wait, that _is_ actually true?"

"Uh.. yes and no. The gist is that every Planck-second—Jesus, okay, speed of light is the top speed of the universe, right?" She nodded again, hesitantly. "To avoid explaining like, half of quantum mechanics, you're gonna have to take my word for some things: most important, there is a 'smallest possible distance' according to our current models. The lowest possible wavelength photon has a wavelength of _that_ distance; the amount of time it takes light to go that far is the Planck time, which some people call a Planck-second cause it's way easier to say than 'a unit of Planck time.'"

"I've asked a much more complicated question than I thought."

"Yeah, physics is like that. I'll be brief. The Planck time is the smallest possible unit of time that means anything as far as we can make sense of it; sure, you can have a shorter time, but literally nothing would happen in that timeframe, and I mean _literally_ nothing, not figuratively. In video game terms; the Planck time is one frame. So every frame, every single possible combination of choices; you looked in the box, or you didn't; the cat died, or it didn't; the poison was released, or it wasn't; and so on—every single combination becomes its own resolved world-state. Essentially, alternate timelines. Yes, I am serious. As far as I understand it, the current theory is that there is an uncountable number of branching alternate universes being created every 'frame' the universe ticks by."

"..Holy _shit_."

"Right? Also can I just pat myself on the back for that not taking like, half an hour to explain and still have it be comprehensible? Because _fuck_ , quantum stuff is complicated. Thank god that video games provide a good parallel." He laughed. "And they said video games don't teach you anything."

"Wow. Alright, that.."

"We have no idea if it's true, that's the thing about physics. Hell, I could be straight-up remembering it wrong. Also I'm pretty sure there's a theory called quantum gravity, which is the ruleset we _would_ need but don't _have_ in order for time shorter than the Planck time to make _any_ sense."

"I'm probably going to regret asking, but.. why can't there be a shorter distance?"

"Because if you try to measure something that small a tiny black hole happens because math. I really wish I had a better answer than that. I can try, but I can't promise it'll be even remotely accurate."

"..A tiny black hole."

"Yeah, I can explain that part, sorta, but I'd have to explain the Compton wavelength, which I don't actually understand all _that_ well."

"Nevermind."

"Yeah, figured. Props for curiosity, though. Hope you're still alive."

"Yeah, my brain hurts, but it was still cool to find out there's an _actual_ answer."

"Insofar as _anything_ in quantum physics can be considered an actual answer; 'because bloody quantum', in the words of the late Sir Terry Pratchett."

"Discworld?! I _love_ those books!"

Kaleb carefully reeled in his line and set his fishing rod down, then turned towards Abigail excitedly. "Which one was your favorite?"

* * *

Caroline and Jodi sat by the window, watching Kaleb and Abigail chatting animatedly on the bench in town. "They really get along, don't they?" Jodi shot Caroline a glance.

She looked nervous, almost. "I'm worried, if I'm being honest. He's a nice enough guy, but Abigail is already a rebellious child, and he's certainly not any better."

"Is that really so bad? Weren't you worried about her behavior because you wanted to make sure she would be able to find someone and not be ostracized? It looks like that's less of an issue, now."

"I suppose, I just.." Caroline sighed. "I don't want to see her hurt. And I don't think he's going to, but I do think she's going to rush headlong into something someday and get _herself_ hurt, and he doesn't seen like the type to discourage that."

"I agree, but he does seem like the type to pick her back up afterwards, or rush in with her to begin with. Maybe he won't hold her back from harm, but.. is being held back really what Abigail would want? Could she be happy, living that way? She's lived here her whole life; she's never shied away from trouble, but she also never holds regrets when she finds it, or it finds her."

"You think I need to step back and let her decide what risks are worth taking?" Caroline worried her lower lip.

"I think she's going to whether you like it or not, and if you try to stop her it will only hurt both of you, because she'll do it anyway, and you'll have pushed her away."

"..maybe you're right."

* * *

"Kaleb! Kaleb! I found a snail!" Vincent came running up, and Kaleb crouched down to look at the proffered animal.

"So you did! Where did you find it?"

"In the garden!"

"Did your mom say snails shouldn't be in the garden?"

"Uh.." He thought a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno."

"Well, you should probably put it back, then." Kaleb nodded very seriously with a hint of a smile. "It's very neat, and thanks to you it's seen all sorts of new places today, but it probably wants to go home; snails are slow, they don't have as much energy as us people, and especially not as much as kids like you! Thanks for showing me, though! Snails are cool."

"Okay! You're welcome!" He ran off towards his house—hopefully to put the snail back down.

Penny walked over, smiling softly. "I thought you said you don't do well with kids."

"I can only do some situations. Imparting life lessons? Oh yeah, I got this. Dealing with kids who have their mind made up on something they shouldn't? Mm; maybe not. I'm terrible at saying no, I just feel bad. It's not their fault they don't understand, but it doesn't make them right, but it also doesn't make me seem any nicer to them."

"You're sweet."

"Aw, shucks."

"'Aw, shucks'? What are you, sixty?" Kaleb looked over to see Abigail grinning at him.

He hunched over, waving his fist like he was holding a cane. "You dern kids better git off my lawn!" He wheezed, and both Abigail and Penny burst out laughing.

"Alright, come on, old man, let's go."

Penny looked at Abigail curiously. "Where are you going?"

Abigail grinned. "The mines."

"She was determined, so I'm going with her because if she gets herself killed by god I'm going to too."

"What?!"

"I'm joking, we'll be fine. I just worry, and don't want it to sound like I think I'm more capable or whatever. She can handle herself same as I can."

"He's a sweetie like that."

"I reiterate: Aw, shucks."

* * *

Abigail hauled Kaleb into the clinic, ignoring his mumbled protests. "'ll be fine, 'gail.."

"Shut up, I am not happy with you right now."

He looked at her blearily, confusion in his features. "Woulda gotten you though," he said vaguely, as though it made _any_ sense as a logical argument.

"It 'getting' _you_ isn't any better!"

"..huh? Why not..?" His eyelids drooped, and he sagged, nearly dragging Abigail down.

" _Harvey_!"

He rushed out, yanking his coat on. "What on earth, Abigail—oh, that's _bad_."

" _Yeah! I know!_ " Abigail was trying not to panic. "You can help him, right?!"

"I'll do everything I can, you know that."

"I know, I—" She cut off. "I just—"

"It sounds to me like you're worried for someone you care very dearly for. I'll take him from here, don't worry. You can wait here if you want to."

"..Thanks, Harvey."

* * *

Kaleb groaned, opening his eyes. He started to sit up, then sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Ooh, ouch, mother _fucker_ that stings."

"You got lucky, Kaleb. If Abigail hadn't gotten you here as fast as she did, you might've lost feeling in your left shoulder."

"Explains the sting."

"You need to work on not being so reckless; Abigail said you jumped between it and her."

"I was _trying_ to block it, not _take the hit_ , thank you."

"She couldn't have done that?"

"Not turned ninety degrees away, not any better than I did!"

"I will concede that point, but the fact remains that she's very upset with you."

".. _Why?!_ Like, thanks, I appreciate the concern and all, but why is she upset _with_ me? Does she think I should have just let it hit her?!"

"You'll have to ask her that, not me."

Kaleb sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry, man. I just.. clinics and hospitals are historically places that have bad associations for me, and they make me nervous, which makes me kinda shitty; also this stings like nobody's business, so."

"It's alright. You learn to keep that in mind in my line of work."

"You're the best, Harvey."

"I'm going to let Abigail know you're awake."

"She's still here?"

"..Yes? Why wouldn't she be?"

"Oh, was I not out very long?"

"Oh boy.. No, you—I'll just let her talk to you."

He left, leaving a very confused Kaleb. A few moments later, Abigail walked in, glaring. "What were you thinking?!"

"Ex _cuse_ me?!" He snarled, and she blinked.

He'd never actually snapped at her before, and it was rather jarring; typically they were on the same wavelength.

He continued before she could respond. "What the hell do you _mean_ 'what was I thinking'?! I was _thinking_ I was going to try and stop that thing from hitting _either_ of us, but I just fucked it up! Why are you even so mad, anyway!? Why are you still _here_? I'll be fine, you have shit to do, right? Don't waste your time waiting around for me." He looked away, jaw set.

"You.. You are the _worst_ , Kaleb." She turned and stormed out.

Kaleb sat in silence, stewing in a rather unpleasant mixture of emotions for a few minutes. Harvey came back. "..I see I should _not_ have left this to you two."

"Go to hell, Harvey," he snapped. "You did a great job fixing me up, but I don't need your sass right now."

He took a half step back. "That's not.. I'm sorry. I should have phrased that better. I only meant that sending you into the conversation without telling you anything was an error in judgment on my part."

"..alright. Sorry for telling you to go to hell. That was out of line."

Harvey shook his head with a chuckle. "I've never met anyone who can go from cursing at someone to apologizing so quickly."

"It's a gift. It's called 'being an unrepentant self-aware asshole'."

"I don't think you are. Hotheaded? Yes. Malicious? No."

"Thanks, Harvey. I mean this in the best way; but I'd just like to sit and not have to talk to anyone for a while. I'm obviously not on top of things enough to be civil, but the usual accepted course of action for that is 'remove yourself from the situation', which.. yeah, not really doable. So while I usually try to avoid asking favors of people right after being a jerk, if you could tell anyone who comes by that I'd be happy to talk _later_ , that'd be great."

"I can do that." Harvey nodded with a gentle smile, then left, leaving Kaleb with his thoughts.

* * *

"Wha—a bouquet?! Abigail, _think_ about this—"

"I _have_! You always act like I never think before I act! I do, _you_ just don't like what I decide, and you can't accept that!"

"I will not be spoken to that way by my daughter, Abigail!"

"Pierre." Caroline's voice was soft, and the two stopped, looking over at her. "Let her go."

" _What_?!" " _Thank_ you."

Caroline walked over, handing Abigail a bouquet from behind the counter. "Go. Your father and I will talk things over."

"Caroline, you can't be serious." The door swung shut, Abigail already gone.

"Pierre, she's twenty-two, almost twenty-three. We can't stop her; she's going to whether we like it or not. And you know our Abigail. She'd live on the streets before she let someone control her, and if we keep trying.. We'll lose her. She won't trust us anymore. It doesn't matter if we're right or wrong; what matters is that we're hurting our daughter."

"But.. He's nice, and all, but.."

"But he's wild. Unpredictable. Emotional."

"If you agree why did you let her go!?"

"Because Abigail is too. They understand each other. You can't tell me you haven't seen how much more at ease she is. She dug out all those old books she hasn't read in years, she's practicing music for more than just band practice, she's doing it because she remembered she _likes_ it."

"I'm just.. I'm _scared_ , Caroline."

"I know, honey. I am too, but that's just part of being a parent. We knew this day was coming, we just didn't think it would be today, or with him. But he learned how to manage a farm in a season, and he's become fast friends with over half the town by now. But more importantly; we should _trust Abigail_. She thinks he's good enough for her. Who are we to say otherwise?"

"..you're right. I'll.. I'll apologize when she comes back."

"Good." Caroline patted him on the back tenderly. "You're a good man, Pierre. I had this same revelation not last week. It's okay."

"Jodi?"

"Jodi."

He laughed. "I should have known." He pulled his wife into his arms. "Thank you.. For keeping me from making a terrible mistake."

* * *

Kaleb heard the door to the clinic open, and muffled voices. " _..said he doesn't want to see anyo—wait!_ "

The door to the recovery room flew open, and Abigail stormed back in, Harvey hot on her heels. Kaleb started. "Wha—What is your _problem_!?" He glared at Abigail, waving his uninjured hand for emphasis. "You act like what I did made _no_ sense—which it _did_ , by the way, thank you very much—call me 'the worst' and storm out, and now you're _back_?! Why are you so _mad_ about this, Abigail!?"

She strode up to him, eyes full of angry tears, and slapped the bouquet down in his lap, a few stray petals drifting down after it. " _ **This**! This is why I'm mad, you—you **asshole**!_" Her voice broke, and she grit her teeth, taking a shaky breath.

Kaleb was stunned. "You—"

"I'm mad at you for _worrying_ me! Because what if next time you're _not_ okay!? Huh?! What am I gonna do then?! I'm mad because I _love you_!" She shook her head, tears beginning to fall. "..I love you, Kaleb."

He took the bouquet slowly, staring at it. Harvey slowly backed out, closing the door as he went. "..I'm not going to apologize, because I'd do it again; I won't just stand there and let someone get hurt if I think I can help. If we're going to work.. you're going to have to accept that."

"So, what, it's okay for the person who gets hurt to be _me_ when you get yourself injured?!" She let out a high pitched growl of frustration. "You are _unbelievable_!"

He was quiet a moment. "..You're the only one besides me who _goes_ into the mines, Abi. You'd be getting hurt either way. So maybe it is selfish of me, to want to be the one who goes out instead of living without the other. But I never claimed to be otherwise."

"..then we'll stop going down there."

He looked at her, startled. " _What_? But you've _always_ wanted to go, you said you've _dreamed_ of it since you were old enough to hold a sword," he protested.

"I don't _care_!" She reached down and gripped his collar, touching their foreheads together. "I don't care about that. If it means I might lose _you_ , I don't _want_ to go. And you're too _stubborn_ ," she pulled away and slugged him in his uninjured shoulder, eliciting an ' _Ow_ '. He rubbed his shoulder with a pout. "You're too stubborn to let me go alone, so I won't go at all." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "And if _I_ can't go, neither can _you_ , mister!"

"Abigail.. Can I ask that we talk about this again later? I don't _want_ to give up adventuring with you. It's one of the things I like—" He cut off, pausing a moment. "..It's one of the things I _adore_ about you. You're the only woman I know who would come in here and _literally_ hit me with their declaration of love." She glared down at him, and he held up a hand in a placating gesture. "I'll give up going by myself. No questions asked. But later, when we didn't just have a very scary experience.. can we come back to this?"

"..Okay. No promises," she pointed sharply, before letting her finger drop. "..but okay. Just.. promise me you won't put yourself in danger unless you _absolutely_ have to."

He nodded. "I promise. I'm.. sorry. For worrying you. I still won't apologize for trying to defend you, since I _really did_ think I was gonna be able to deflect that little bastard." She laughed. "But I never want to hurt you, Abigail. You were the first person in town who made me feel like I was going to _like_ living here, instead of 'eh, its okay.'"

"What flattery." She smiled softly. "Kaleb? Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, yes you can. More than once, even."

She pressed a kiss to his lips, speaking without pulling away. "Jackass." She felt him smile, and _finally_ , her heart began to feel at ease. He was okay—

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ jackass."

—and he was hers.

* * *

"Come on, hurry up!"

Abigail laughed. "You are such a _child_."

Kaleb gasped, turning to Vincent. "Did you hear that? She called me a child!" He turned back, sticking out his tongue. "I changed my mind, I'm not letting you on my sled now."

"Can I come then?!" Vincent bounced excitedly.

Kaleb looked past him at Jas, who was watching from a distance. "Let's see if Jas wants to ride along, she's just been watching for a while." He called louder to Shane. "If that's alright, of course."

"Go nuts, kid." She shot over, hopping on the back of the sled behind Kaleb.

"Let's go!" She cried, pointing an arm past her riding partner.

"I wanna go too," Vincent pouted.

Abigail reached the top of the hill. "Well, since my _boyfriend_ won't let me ride with _him_." He stuck his tongue out again, and she laughed. "We can ride together, how's that? I can grab my sled from home real fast."

Vincent's eye's grew wide, and he beamed. "We should have _sled races_!"

"I should _not_ do that." Kaleb shook his head vigorously. "If Abi and I get in a competition we do _not_ qualify as responsible supervising adults anymore."

"Aw.."

"I never said we couldn't race, just that I can't be allowed to drive."

Abigail looked at her boyfriend with a twinkle in her eye. "You and Jas versus me and Vincent?"

"You're on. I am _absolutely_ throwing snowballs at you."

"Oooh, you're in for it now, bucko."

Jas and Vincent giggled uncontrollably at the light-hearted trash talk between the couple.

Shane snorted. "It's like I'm watching _four_ kids, come on guys."

* * *

"This. This is my _masterpiece_." Kaleb solemnly gestured to a pumpkin the size of a car, carved into a _very_ crude jack-o-lantern.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your masterpiece sucks."

He narrowed his eyes slightly and raised his eyebrows, holding up a finger as he cocked his head to the side. "Ah, but you see, it is the masterpiece for my chosen discipline."

"Is your chosen discipline 'shitty jack-o-lanterns'?"

"Damn, you're good; how'd you know?"

Abigail cackled, doubling over. "Oh my god, I didn't expect that to actually be your punchline; I can't believe you committed a giant pumpkin to that joke."

"Oh, no, I'm just bad." He was quiet a moment. "..Also I didn't have a long enough knife, so I had to use a sword."

She laughed even harder.

* * *

"Hey, Kaleb?"

Kaleb looked over his shoulder at Abigail, who was curled up on the couch, Tybalt in her lap. "Yeah?"

She smiled softly to herself. "We're gonna be married in a _week_." She shook her head. "It almost doesn't feel real.."

"I know, right? New year, new life together."

She rolled her eyes, her smile growing to an exasperated grin. "You're a _sap_."

Kaleb smirked. "You love it. You _did_ ask me to marry you."

"And which one of us cried?" She cocked an eyebrow at him, expression knowing.

"Me, _obviously_ , because _you_ knew it was coming!"

* * *

Abigail lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow. She would be married _tomorrow_. Kaleb was going to be her husband. She giggled to herself, and she didn't even feel embarrassed about it.

She couldn't wait.


End file.
